I was broke, in college and looking for something, anything to cure my financial ailment. The ad I found was strange.

Young males wanted, Specialty Taste Club, catering to the unusual, Excellent pay, flexible hours, no selling. Call for personal interview.

The no selling part got my attention. It seemed like all the ads that talk of flexible hours really mean door to door sales. I tried it a few times, wasted a lot of time and never made any money.

When I called the number I was greeted by a nice female voice. She asked me the regular questions, how old was I, was I working and so forth. She informed me that since this was a specialty taste club she had to ask some health related questions.

She asked me questions like I was applying for health insurance or something. I must have answered them the way she wanted because she set me up for an interview with Mrs. Issacs for the next day.

The place wasn’t far from where I lived, and since it was a nice day I walked the six blocks to the office. (Even if the day was not so nice I still would have walked. I sold my car last week to pay the rent.)

Mrs. Issacs appeared to be in her fifties, she wasn’t taller than five feet and a little on the plump side, if anything she looked like a younger Dr. Ruth Westhimer. You know the one that appears on talk shows and writes books about human sexuality.

I was asked the standard barrage of questions with a lot of them relating to my health. Mrs. Issacs said that I might qualify as a candidate, but before we could continue the interview I had to sign some kind of non-disclosure form.

I needed money and didn’t spend much time reading the document, I just signed on the dotted line. Mrs. Issacs seemed to be studying me as she moved back to her desk.

“Robert, we pay exceptionally well, We have young men your age making two and three thousand a week for only a few hours work. We represent La société de l’essence de l’homme. In English that means The Society for the Essence of Man. Our clients are known only to us and they have one common desire, they enjoy the taste of youthful sperm.

“If we accept you as one of our taste providers and if you accept our terms, then you will receive $500 for every controlled ejaculation administered at our facility. We provide clean fresh sperm to those who have a fetish for it and can pay our price. We provide an environment where their identity remains known only to us; you will never know the identity of the sperm taster. Our clients are both male and female, however you will never know which one takes your sperm. Some times we allow the taster to receive the sperm direct, other times we take it and offer it to them in glass. If this does not offend you and you want to continue, please come with me.”

I was dumbfounded, they were going to pay me for my cum, I followed, I needed $500. Hell I paid to have my cum sucked. (Once I was so horny, and this black girl offered to blow me for twenty bucks.)

She led me into a room that looked like a doctors examining room. There was one of those examination tables with the extra braces like the ones the doctors use on women to check their pussies.

In a mater-of-fact tone Mrs. Issacs told me that I was going to be examined, to strip and lay on the examination table. The setting was so doctor like, I complied without much thought. When I was positioned on the examining table she spread my legs and put my feet in the stirrups.

Here I was stark assed naked, on my back on an examination table, my legs were spread like a woman who was going to get her check up. Mrs. Issacs told me to relax, that before I could be employed by the club that a sperm sample had to be drawn.

Mrs. Isaac’s explained that when they took sperm from me that I would be completely spent. They used the method developed by Washington University to extract the maximum amount of sperm in one ejaculation.

My dick was soft, this all seemed so clinical, I couldn’t figure out how I was going to cum for her in this sanitized environment.

She continued to explain that the institute employed very talented people that knew how to manipulate a man to ejaculation. (This statement caught my interest.)

She showed me a thing that looked like a six inch finger made of rubber. “This,” she said, “we will insert several inches into your rectum. It produces a small current and it also has special sensors that give us a clear indication when you’re about to ejaculate. The current is designed to stimulate your prostate and by controlling the current we can control the moment of ejaculation and increase the output quantity.”

To my nervous embarrasment, she inserted the thing up my ass then attached two electrodes to my nuts explaining that these would also send a small current and assist the device in my ass. The combination of these devices would cause me to ejaculate almost all available sperm and give me in return a most satisfying climax.

My dick was limp. With all this technical stuff and the thing in my ass and the wires attached to my nuts, I was beginning to think that this wasn’t going to be very much fun after all, but I needed the money.

She went to the interphone and called someone, foreign sounding, to come to the examination room. In walked a woman, six feet tall and at least three hundred pounds. She was introduced to me as Yvonne and that she was going to be my stroker.

If my soft-on was soft before it certainly shrivelled up more at the sight of Yvonne. When Mrs. Issacs told me about talented people to masturbate me I expected some cute eighteen or nineteen year old naked goddess stroking my dick. This six foot “manly” Yvonne was at least sixty years old, a grandmother for Christ sakes.

I was ready to get off of the table and pull that thing out of my ass and get the hell out of there. Mrs. Issacs must have anticipated this because no sooner had the thought crossed my mind then she said. “If you want to make money, stay put young man.”

Well I needed the money, so I stayed put. Yvonne took a bottle off of the shelf that said Lubricant, on it and approached me. She took my limp dick and spread the stuff around my flaccid shaft. I looked at her fat hand as it encircled it.

Now I have been stroked before, and of course I’ve stroked myself many times, but this was something else. When Yvonne took my shaft in her hand she moved my dick in such a way that it grew rapidly. She had a way of pacing her strokes, stopping for a second to allow my dick to pulsate a few times and then continue in a varying rhythm that seemed to match my dick’s every need. I couldn’t believe that this oversized, overweight sixty year old hag was so good at what she was doing.

While this all was going on Mrs. Issacs told me that Yvonne had been stroking young men’s dicks since she was thirteen. She was one of the best in the world and that often they used her to get off some of the male patrons while they were tasting sperm.

I almost forgot that this whole exercise was for a sperm sample. Sperm tasting? Hell call it cum sucking. I didn’t want to sound as technical as Mrs. Issacs.

Then I felt it, Mrs. Issacs must have be turning up the voltage. The twinge was unmistakable and my dick must have gained strength. I felt my ass pulsate and I felt my climax coming on real good. Mrs. Issacs approached my dick holding a glass. Then I came. I started shooting into the glass. I kept shooting and shooting, more than I have ever done in my life.

When I was done, Mrs. Issacs took the glass with my cum in it and held it up to the light studying it. She said the color looked good, she then smelled it and remarked that the smell was good also.

There right in front of my eyes she took the glass to her mouth and started drinking my cum, she swirled it around like a gourmet wine taster. When she seemed satisfied she spit out what she had in her mouth into the washbasin. She offered the glass to Yvonne who did the same. Yvonne said that it was good, but a little on the watery side. Mrs. Issacs turned to me and said that my ejaculate was acceptable, a little on the watery side but that a proper diet would take care of that.

Yvonne pulled down one side of her top exposing a rather large, not bad looking tit with a real puffy and elongated nipple and proceeded to squeeze it. Jets of tit milk squirted into my cum glass and when the mixture seemed to be about half and half she put her tit back into her dress. Mrs. Issacs produced a bottle of Crown Royal and poured some into the glass and stirred it.